Long Hit and run Poems
Long Hit and run Poems. Below are the most popular long Hit and run by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hit and run poems by poem length and keyword.
W Wondering what happened
O Old established neighbors
R Ran into street after the car left
D Dead body was covered quickly
O Old people were not home. Deceased was their lawyer Sam.
N No one had actually witnessed the crash or the car leaving.
T The witnesses were all over the place
H He said he saw the hit-and-run-driver then changed his mind
E Everyone wanted to help of course, this being a tight group.
S She said she heard the driver yell something but she lied.
T There had been some witnesses of course.
R Red car, blue truck, yellow bus even. Not reliable ones.
E Everyone began talking at once.
E Each had a different version, saw a different vehicle.
T They all wanted to talk sadly having no real information.
...“For two years we tried, but ambushes came,
they hit and run, would not stand up and fight,
the meadows were deadly, the forests were hell,
wherever we went, we were in their sights.
“Imagine one hundred million peasants
as well armed as a soldier of the line…
add to that an army not defeated,
shelling their own cities, time after time.
“Just so that they could deny them to us,
leave us with no conquests but the rubble,
our losses were heavy, reinforcements far,
even True Man knew we were in trouble.
“Some say that he was planning to retreat,
but his intentions were never realized,
because one day a damn peasant postal clerk
put a fifty cal round right through his eye.
“I was quite young, but I remember well
scrambling back to our remaining ships,
retreating across the cold Atlantic,
most of our own men not believing it.
“They were to try America twice more,
and each time it just became a bloodbath.
Their southern neighbors copied them quickly,
you won’t find a house there where guns are lacked.
“The horror of savage, armed peasantry…
I hope that you never know such despair,
there is a reason we keep ours helpless,
a reason why we don’t go over there.”
Kaahbli stopped there, he could not go one,
since Sabati was not even a teen,
couldn’t tell the boy that without peasants
the Americans relied on machines.
That with those machines, they’d took to the stars,
spread to every planet around the sun,
that they could carpet the Earth in fire,
that it was so much worse than just their guns.
For all his strength, his breeding, his brain,
for everything that he’d been evolved to,
Betters were trapped on just three continents,
and with a flip-switch they all could be nuked.
But those words were for when he was older,
a young Better had to be raised just right,
he’d seen young minds learn too much truth too quick,
anger like that was not a pretty sight.
So he just turned back to his young grandson,
said, “Enough of that boy, come, listen here,
you want them to work, whip them once a month,
and kill at least one peasant every year.
“It helps a lot to make them live in fear…”
Down in the south east of Ukraine they call the Donbas region
Is where the Russians were kept at bay by the Azoz battalion
For three long months in Mariupol, they put up one hell of a fight
Against air raids, constant bombardment and military might.
Many were severely injured in battle, but they never gave in
In an act of sheer defiance to the Russian's and Vladimar Putin
It's stalled Russian advance, in their so called special operation
And to war criminal Vladimar Putin, it caused much frustration
His murdering scum army were much needed elsewhere
But strong Ukrainian resistance were keeping them there
The Ukrainian high command knew they wouldn't survive
President Zelensky was heard to say "we need heroes alive".
Orders were given for them to stand down, so they surrendered
The siege will live on in folklore, and will always be remembered
The Russian military has now taken the soldiers, to a prison colony
Where they'll be charged with terrorism and never be set free.
Russians from the steelworks siege, are now being sent to the front
Trying to cut off Ukrainians in the east, who are bearing the brunt
The west must now go all out to deliver the weapons they need
To help push back the aggressors and make sure they succeed.
Their heroic stand bought time for Ukraine, to replenish supplies
Like heavy weapons from the west that caught Russia by surprise
Russia's only real advantage, is the sheer volume of personnel
So small groups of brave Ukrainian guerrillas, are giving them hell.
Hit and run raids by special forces are being carried out with success
Zelensky has nothing but praise for his soldiers, in his nightly address
Land seized by Russia will never have peace, the Ukrainians have said
To concede land to the brutal invaders, would be an insult to the dead.
Ukraine wants to send soldiers bodies back to their families
Russia has refused them, because the truth, the people would see
And Vladimir Putin doesn't want his people to see him as a liar
So he's quite happy to ignore it as his death toll grows higher.
written on 26th may 2022
On a patrol for the good so far from their home
Professional in their minds, never to roam
But this is a world, where feelings are forgotten
Damning souls of destruction fuelled with gun-cotton
For on rocky outcrops and deserted sand paths
Lie hidden dangers to take life from it's grasp
Coalition troops, our children just boys
Doing their duty for their orders employ
On missions they set out to rid insurgent scum
Against a tactic so great, guerrilla warfare hit and run
Recent news has informed us, that another has been downed
A father, uncle or son, leave another family tear drowned
Another hidden device in his face has exploded
Their hunger to hate once again has been loaded
Medics rush in to save the life of their soul
Knowing when he's home, another stat for wars toll
Many weeks he recuperates, behind bandages and care
Visited by friends, but only his children do stare
His strength now regained, but not the man he once was
A silence beckons then turns to applause
Assisted by comrades as he is led to collect
His medal of valour whilst inside he reflects
In his future years knowing his children grow strong
For he's in a dark world, where he doesn't belong
Emotions so many will follow his years
For when this blind man cries, we must share in his tears
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-6.php
Shirley met Chace, her true love on social media; he was wonderfully attentive.
She called him, and spoke to him, and he said he was down on his luck.
Could she please pick him up? She was glad to do it, and he paid her so much attention.
She had never been this admired and complimented, and it made her feel special.
She moved Chace into her mother’s basement, but let him know he should keep quiet.
So he did, because he did not want to ruin their love. He was not discovered for a week or two.
Shirley’s mother was pretty upset when she discovered this unknown male living in her basement.
She asked about his job, he had done some work for people, but they never paid him. He was broke.
If it was not bad enough that Chace was down on his luck, he was now being picked on by Shirley’s mother.
Shirley was furious. She said they were moving and she did, in a big frenzy. She did not take her
dog, because Chace said the dog would cost too much to feed.
Shirley had to quit her job after a while because she was so busy taking care of him.
Pretty soon he was driving her car.
The smitten lovers shared Shirley’s bank account until the money ran out. In an act of chivalry, Chace contacted his mother, and she sent him a check, but it had to put it into Shirley’s name because for some strange reason, he could not cash a check.
The last time Shirley’s mother saw Shirley her car was all dented up, apparently Chace
had driven it, and brought it back that way. Naturally, Shirley forgave him.
A police detective contacted Shirley’s mother today, asking about Shirley, because her car was
In a hit and run a few months ago. No one knows where the lovers are, but we know that Shirley is with her true love.
I stole her away…
That was no innocent child
She was full of wisdom I would never attain,
That not even a martyr of a thousand years could ever dream of
I stole her away….
Because she was never mine
Just as my wife was never mine,
That child was never mine
I can still see the look of confusion in my wife’s eyes
That baby knew everything within that stare
She knew everything and more
She knew more than was physically possible,
In her little time on earth
So I stole her away…
I kept her from growing…
I keep her…in here!!!
She listens to my lies
Though somehow she sees right through them
She finds truth in the ugly…the damned…
With surpassing intelligence
The truth has many eyes, many ears
The truth need only taste once
Then it has to hit and run
The taxi driver knocked me out,
But before I was hit,
He saw the loose shell in my arms
He saw that she was not looking at anyone
He saw a stupid, innocent child
She was looking at the ceiling,
Fascinated by its insignificance
She didn’t cry out,
No matter how hard I thrashed
One second I missed that terrible stranger
But the memory has seared into me a hate that will never fade…
She didn’t move at all
I woke up and was childless. I lost everything, I dully knew. Sometimes I am haunted by the baby’s gaze…but she is not looking at me. She is looking at everyone else—all of those who I have hurt and ruined, all of those I have yet to know.
The sad thing is, I never imagine my child looking down from sky paradise…I always picture her as I last saw her…looking up.
"Love Me Or Hate Me" ~ Says the Limerick
I am only five lines written for fun
Mocking someone with foolish words of pun
Love 'em or hate 'em
You praise or condemn
A poetry form some call "hit and run"
Some think of me as inconsequential
To the haughty I am nonessential
It's a thought I refute
And would gladly dispute
Cuz nothing I say is confidential
I read Jan's limericks about Tess Tickle
But did you know Tess spent her last nickle
Buying new underwear
Cause she hadn't a spare
She kept leaking in some sort of trickle
Tess had a good friend with the name of Neve
Cheated by keeping aces up her sleeve
She thought she was smart
Until she got caught
That taught her it doesn't pay to decieve
And then there was the one they called Maisy
Made faces that caused her to look crazy
One day her eye got stuck
And she looked like a duck
So now everyone calls her Miss Daisy
There once was a gal whose name was Mary
Wore wings pretending she was a fairy
Then I swear on my word
She flapped 'em like a bird
And started singing like a canary
Heard them tell about a gal named Sally
Made money hanging out in the alley
But then she got greedy
With those who were seedy
It was curtains in her grand finale
I used to know a chesty lass named Pam
She had to tote them around in a pram
Then had an operation
A booby castration
I heard she now goes by the name of 'Sam'
Did you hear about the one called Yvette
She can't remember and started to fret
It made me want to cry
I can't figure out why
Umm.. umm.. I'm too old and tend to forget
along the edge
of the hustle
and bustle
of the highway
stands a set
of weathered steps
that break
at the horizon's fold
visions burn
within the dawn
of memories
in crimson pools
atop the steps
as i recall
more youthful days
a rush of sirens
beneath the hush
of october's dusk
with sanguine flashes
against the old stone home
its black and white
beaming back
in blurs
through misty air
where rain mingled
with tears
from the corners
of my eyes
as they still seep
within the lingering
of old memories
from fourty years
gone past
(i was hit by a hit and run driver 2 days after my sweet 16, the anniversary of that date is approaching and still haunts my mind , as i wonder how anyone could leave innocence for dead... last year i had to stop my bus just feet away from that spot, twice daily, this year i avoided that bus because i didn't want to relive the memory daily)
Jasmine was an innocent soul.
Who married a narcissistic pig.
After three months she was pregnant.
The news was embrace with a brick in her face.
He did not sign up for that.
He was not ready to be a dad.
He wanted his freedom.
Drink and have parties with his friends.
She endured the violence.
Kept silent.
A second baby was on the way.
But that did not stop the pain.
His raged got even worse.
She wanted to file for a divorce.
He made her scared,
Promised her death.
After years of abused.
She devised an escape plan.
On a dark, stormy night,
She grabbed the kids and ran away.
But to all dismay,
A drunk driver did a hit and run.
Three lives end.
What if the incessant torture didn’t happen so many dark
times, but it’s unimaginable for you to comprehend isn’t it?
What if there wasn’t such violence against me, I wouldn’t have
bled on those I loved most while devastated in my poorest sorrow.
What if the sins they committed against me didn't happen I
could've led a life without inconsolable despair.
What if my father didn’t knock me down the stairs as he spat
his poison on me, leaving me in an insufferable existence.
What if my mom protected me from the cruelty and abuse,
or showed love, I wouldn’t have hung my head in shame.
What if the kids at school didn't shove me against the wall
shouting obscenities, I could've learned to make friends.
What if my peers didn’t cause heart wrenching pain in my
teenage years, I wouldn’t have thought about ending my life.
What if that female relative didn’t kick me in the stomach,
laughing as I vomited and collapsed, I could’ve trusted woman.
What if the other female relative’s drunken boyfriend didn’t kick
me in the eye detaching my retina, I could’ve had faith in family.
What if anyone cared, after hit and run, I dragged my body and
leg cast across the floors tending to my needs, feeling utter ruin.
What if I was treated humanely in that rented room instead the
landlord locked the bathroom forcing me to go in a garbage can.
What if, my employer showed kindness as I arrived with black eyes,
instead of forcing me to work where everyone could see my shame.
What if that employer tried to help me when a car struck me, altering
my body, limping into work with a full leg cast, instead they fired me.
Despite their disgraceful abuse, I'm hopeful I can bring healing
to the demoralized by my charitable works and unconditional love.
What if these ruthless people didn’t destroy me; I could’ve been
a strong Advocate on behalf of Victims of Abuse and Persecution.
What if my words can lift up another broken person, by bringing
them the slightest hope that God will lead them to safety.
Still, though, I implore God to show His mercy and kindness
while raising me up out of this hell so I can finally be at peace.